Note: Well, regarding the last chapter; there is method in my madness. The rest of the story is back in the present day, except for a brief excursion to the nineteen-hundreds at the middle of the chapter - and apologies for the two- year long absence, I just sort of lost my train of thought…

THE REDEMPTION OF WOLVES

an X-Men: Evolution fanfic by JetNoir

CHAPTER FOUR

New York City

"Good grief!"

Kurt almost exploded when he saw The Man's townhouse. Books lined every wall, old, new, some in beautiful condition, some in lesser so. Almost all the rooms were decorated in this way. There must have been thousands of books, if not tens of thousands.

"Interesting," murmured Kitty, "so we know at least one more thing about you."

"Fine, fine," muttered The Man, "come on in. The sitting rooms along here. Please sit down."

The X-Men gracelessly plonked down on varying chairs and sofa's arranged haphazardly; moving onto the floor piles of books that had seemingly accumulated there…almost of their own accord.

"I know that we've just come from a Café," said The Man, "but would you like anything to drink?" Everyone shook his or her head politely.

"So," said the man, "your friend. Her name wouldn't happen to be Rahne would it?"

"And how would you know that?" asked Amara softly, her voice dangerously low.

"When I worked for En Sabur Nur," said The Man, "he accumulated brief files on all those he would believe to be his enemies. I should know, he charged me with learning. I worked closely with a Miss Raven Darkholme-"

"Mystique!" Rogue and Kurt exploded simultaneously, then quietened.

"Yes," said The Man, "I understand of your delicate relationship with Miss Darkholme. She provided information, and of course a promise to help with the release of Apocalypse, plus Rogue's stealing of powers in return for her, and Miss Rogue's safety. These files were brief, and by no means personal, focusing on strength's and weaknesses. I learned of Rahne's powers, and realised it must be her, when you mentioned a wolf. To get to my point, the reason I invited you here, was that when I first arrived here, I was going through some of the books I had purchased with this house, and I noticed a story, an old legend, perhaps a fairy-tale regarding a wolf, and a curse. The name of the girl was Rahne. To be honest, I thought it was almost fiction…but you know what they say about legend."

"All legends begin with the hint of truth," said Rogue.

"Exactly!" said The Man, "Yet there is a problem."

"Isn't there always," muttered Tabitha, but The Man ignored her, and continued;

"This legend…called Whispers, is a small red-bound volume. The problem is that the book is somewhere in this house. I just don't know where."

"Ah," said Kurt, "so…you want us to help you find it?"

"If you would be so kind," replied The Man, "but when I said I have no idea…I have NO idea. It is somewhere."

"And in the meantime," said Kitty, "what are we supposed to call you? Mr Ewing?" Everyone looked at her blankly, "You know. J. R. Ewing? From one of those strange soaps, Dallas? Alright, it's not as if I've seen them, but as we know your name begins with a 'J', and ends with an 'R'. Oh for crying out loud, forget it! But my question stands! What are we to call you?"

The Man shrugged, "It doesn't really matter, one name's as good as another's."

"Fine!" grunted Kitty, "what about simply Jay?"

"Fine with me," sighed The Man, "now. If you would be as good as to find this book…but would one of you tell me what is happening in greater detail? I warn you though. In legend, there are half-truths and lies. I offer no answers; merely the possibilities of understanding. And on that pretentious note."

A pause, then,

"Let's go to work…"

Rahne

Voices, unsure. Coming towards her.

As she struggled to keep her fragmented brain together, she blearily opened a furry lid, and saw a man approaching. A warning growl sounded deep within her throat, but the man didn't notice.

No. She couldn't do that. Surely not. There was still a shred of humanity within her, desperately clinging on to the fur of the wolf.

She flung herself to the side, nipping into an alleyway, smoke belching out of a metal grate. For all Rahne knew it could have been from the centre of the Earth.

The man never knew how lucky he was. For all he knew, a stray dog had rushed past him. Surely the city pound would catch it sooner or later. After all, there were plenty of dogs on the streets.

Of course he wasn't looking close enough. But this man himself, matters no longer. He simply walks away, and as our attention turns back to the wolf, we find her motives are now being motivated by a different turn of events. Hunger. Looking around her, she has followed her keen sense of smell to the back door of a somewhat famous restaurant, and in the trash outside, she discovers half of a discarded chicken. This she devours rapidly.

Yet, it is not enough, never enough. On she runs, still terrified and out of control.

Kitty

Kitty's pink dress floated and wafted, as she was swept along on a sea of air. Throughout New York City's streets, she wandered, ran, floated, her hair loose and free, and falling, always falling.

She reached out to touch skyscrapers, walls of brick, concrete and dust. Glass windows swept past in a reflected blur. It soon became unclear which way was up, and which was down.

Then she found it. Floating before her, perfectly formed, it's colour glowing. A pink rose. Kitty reached out to touch it and…

Her eyes opened to find the world sideways, and the first thing she saw was Jay. She was laying on her side, on a sofa in a room where books covered most of the floor. She had an odd sense of déjà vu, before realising that this had happened before. Almost.

Jay was watching her, carefully, closely. Perhaps respectively. And…no, he was watching over her. Just like he had in The Institute, when she had been in a coma for three days. He had saved her before, and now it was as if his eyes were saving her now. She smiled sleepily, and he smiled back.

"How long have I been out?" she asked.

"A few hours. You looked exhausted."

"And now."

"More rested. Just concerned. I can tell you're worried sick."

"Any luck on that book? Hey, that rhymes."

"The poet who didn't know it," said Jay, "but no. No luck yet."

Kitty chose that moment to get up, and after a moment's unsteadiness, Jay repeated the gesture. They started to walk slowly together.

"Why are you helping us?" asked Kitty.

"I have no idea," replied Jay, softly, "for all I wanted was a quiet life. To lay low, especially now that I'm out of the clutches of Apocalypse. Perhaps catch up on my reading." He gestured around him: "I'm a little behind."

Kitty laughed, but her face soon returned to normal. "Do you know what's happening to Rahne?"

They stopped moving less than an inch apart.

"That's what we're here to find out," he said.

Aberdeen, Scotland - 1910

Rolling out of the tavern were three extremely drunk (and extremely smelly) sailors, clutching onto each other for dear life. They could barely see in front of them, as they rolled down the close and claustrophobic streets, weaving, and dodging phantoms. More than once they stopped to empty the contents of their stomachs onto the pavestones.

Of the three, it was to be the youngest, seventeen year old Albert Miller who was to be the victim of this wandering kill. It shoved it's way into Miller's stomach, knocking him over to the cobblestones. The other two knocked into each other, and fell over - passing out as they hit the ground. In fact it happened so quickly, that when the other two sailors woke up, all was left of Miller was a puddle of blood.

The Townhouse, New York City - present day

"Ah hah!"

Kurt's German accent reverberated throughout the household, and as Jay and Kitty looked up from the bookshelves, both lurched forward to the next room, knocking over stacks of books, which fell in a waterfall cascade. A bookslide of sorts.

"That sounded promising," said Kitty.

Holding a small red leather volume up, Kurt asked: "Is this it?"

The Man nodded, snatching the book from Kurt's three furry fingers, mumbling thanks. He opened it, and started flicking through it; the mutants gathering around him, watching the procession of pages and fingers.

As he read, The Man started speaking rapidly: "Of course, it isn't a natural werewolf, Rahne being a mutant and all. But is there such a thing as a natural werewolf? Contradiction in that, but she fits criteria. Could it be?"

"Stop!" said Kitty, "Quickly. Go back two pages." Jay did so. "No, another one." The page went back once more.

"There!" said Kitty, "The book mentions the name Kinross."

"So?" said Jay.

"That's Rahne's family," she said, "her mother's name. Even though she's adopted…there has to be something here."

"That's interesting," said Jay, "this must have been going on for generations. Perhaps it has nothing to do with the wolf. What if something with a family had gotten inside the wolf-side of your friend?"

Kitty looked at him with horror:

"You're talking about possession…"

Note: To be continued! Again, I'm very sorry about this long wait, but I'll work on the next chapter much quicker. I promise! There's just one more chapter, followed by the epilogue. As to this, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review.

Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution is copyright to Warner Brothers and the story (plus original characters, and the 'fairy-story' "Whispers") to me. This story has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page (this includes links) without my express written permission. Thankyou!

JetNoir